


Grace's Happy New Year

by Gaqalesqua



Series: The Devil's Dance [1]
Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: Biting, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, F/M, Scratching, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-24 20:01:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17710622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaqalesqua/pseuds/Gaqalesqua
Summary: This was supposed to be a Christmas present for mismot, but uh, it dragged on...a little...The Collapse came early, and now it’s the New Year. John has some ideas for how to pass the time.





	Grace's Happy New Year

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MisMot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisMot/gifts).



Grace stared at the calendar hung on the wall and tried to keep her expression neutral. They'd put the 2019 one up last night whilst she was in the shower, so the angry red lines she'd scribbled over 31 had gone, replaced.

2019\. Twenty fucking nineteen. She'd been in this fucking bunker for three months. It had taken them three weeks to leave her door unlocked after she'd finally accepted she wasn't getting out of here. Not that outside was any better. She'd seen glimpses of the scarred landscape from protected cameras and that was when the reality of it had sunk in. Unless she wanted to try her luck in what remained of the county, it was John Seed's bunker or death.

And honestly, the latter had been preferable at first. John Seed- _John Seed_ \- had saved her ass. Dragged her into the back of his truck and away from the oncoming doom of the Collapse as he and his Peggies bolted into the bunker. Grace almost clawed his eyes out until she looked back at the blazing sky and the trees burning like matchsticks, and that had frozen her long enough for some Peggie to knock her out.

Her greatest surprise, truthfully, was that she didn’t wake up cuffed to a chair with John watching her, trusty tattoo gun in hand. Hell, her cell was comfortable, with solid walls and a cover for the window in the door. Maybe now the Collapse had come, there was no point in trying to force them to atone.

Still, that was three months ago. She'd settled into a routine of helping out where was necessary and reading whatever she could get her hands on. John had insisted she and Addie join them for Christmas, but other than that, he'd left her mostly alone.

“Grace.”

Speak of the devil. She rolled her eyes, looking up to see him in the door, one hand on the lintel. “Something I can help with, John?” she asked, shooting him a fake smile with a sweet voice.

“I was just coming to wish you a happy new year,” he began, “must you _really_ give me such sarcasm?”

“Gee, thanks John,” she sighed. “Happy new year to you too, or something.”

John let out a frustrated noise. “Three months, Grace, and you haven’t even thanked me for pulling you from the flames of the Collapse. I could’ve _left_ you, you know.”

Grace sat up, glaring at him. “No you wouldn’t,” she snapped. “Joseph would’ve had your head.”

She watched his fist clench. “Yes! Because you still have a _purpose_ , don’t you _see_?! Joseph-”

“John, I’m _really_ not interested right now,” she snarled. “Now are you done indulging in _heathen_ traditions?”

She watched his face go blank. After a few moments, a smirk tugged at his lips. Something about it set a low burn between Grace’s thighs and her brows furrowed.

“You know, some people kiss to ring in the New Year,” he commented.

Grace spluttered. “I’m- what, sorry, _what_?”

“I’m offering you a kiss for good luck in 2019,” John said calmly, and took a few steps into her room. “We’re stuck here for the next six years and nine months, _deputy_ , we might as well get used to each other.”

“Why the hell would I want to kiss you?!” Grace demanded. “Don’t you _remember_ what you did to me?!” She pulled open her shirt to expose the _wrath_ scratched into her chest. John’s eyes followed the curve of her breast below it.

“I’m not asking for your undying love and adoration, Grace, I’m asking for a kiss,” he told her.

Grace inhaled deeply. “If- _if-_ I kiss you, will you leave me the fuck alone?”

John put up his hands. “I’ll leave you alone, no fucks involved.”

Somehow that just made the burn worse as her mind briefly played scenes of him fucking her into the mattress, and she hoped it didn’t show on her face. “Okay,” she muttered. “Fine. One kiss. Then leave.”

John strode over to the bed and Grace realised that was the closest he’d been since he pulled her and Addie out of the Collapse back in September. She shuffled over to make some space for him on the bed, and as he took a seat, she could smell the faint scent of his cologne. His hand grasped her waist and Grace’s breath escaped her in a soft huff as he pulled her in. She refused to look at him until his fingers tucked underneath her chin and turned her head towards his.

Then his mouth was on hers and Grace couldn’t stop the moan that escaped her at the softness of his lips. She’d always joked with Addie that John’s self-care regime probably involved a lot of lip balm and moisturiser but it was hard to really _laugh_ about that when he was kissing her like _this_. Her fingers clenched tightly into the sheets below her, half-expecting a taunt from him, but he seemed _distracted_.

The hand on her waist tugged her closer and Grace let go of the sheets, clenching her own fists. It would be so easy to grab John’s shoulders and hold on but that was a victory she didn’t want to give him. At least until his tongue swept over her lips. She parted them on instinct and a moment later she was in his lap, her legs spread either side of his waist.

“John,” she broke away, gasping, “that wasn’t the deal, you said _one-_ ”

“I didn’t say how long it could go on for, did I?” he asked. His voice sounded as breathy as her own and Grace opened her eyes to see him gazing at her, his eyes glazed and fixed on her mouth.

“Lawyers,” she muttered, but she didn’t try to push him away.

“I’d be more convinced of your irritation if you weren’t panting in my lap,” he murmured.

“You _put_ me there,” she protested. It came out in a whine.

“That doesn’t sound like a _protest_ , my dear,” the endearment should’ve made her spine crawl but it _didn’t_ , “and my point remains. Look where you are.” His hand slid down to her ass. “If you _really_ want me to stop, I will.” Then his mouth found her neck and Grace gasped.

“Y-you said _one_!” she breathed, grabbing his shoulders. The rasp of his beard made her hips buck.

“This isn't a kiss,” he mumbled back.

_Lawyers!_

“Okay, well,” Grace panted as he squeezed her ass, “doesn't this break- the- the _fornication_ rule?”

John pulled back. “Your friend Adelaide was aiding in the violation of that a day after she arrived here. Besides,” he dragged her closer, “that was meant for _before_ the Collapse and _we_ are very much in the midst of it.”

“Lucky me,” Grace went to mutter, and his teeth scraped at her neck and pulled a soft cry out of her. John's hands found her belt, and Grace looked down as she watched him slowly undo the buckle. “John?”

“Yes, my darling?”

She almost smacked him upside the head but his mouth attacked her neck again and the waves of pleasure that filled her with each bite quickly distracted her. By the time she could think again, her jeans were loose, and his fingers were hooking into the waistband, chest pressing into hers. One hand slid up her back and Grace realised he was lowering her onto the mattress.

“You know,” she licked her lips as she watched the intent gleam in his eyes, “I never said _yes_.”

“Oh Grace,” he sighed with a chiding smile, “I learned long ago that you never would.” He dragged the jeans down her thighs and ran an open palm over the exposed flesh. “Besides, you haven't tried to stop me.”

A million quips rushed through her mind. But somehow, she felt like taunting him about _waiting until marriage_ would only end in him taking it as a serious proposal of matrimony and honestly, the last thing she needed was an over excited John Seed pulling away _right now_ to organise their _wedding_.

He kissed her again as he leaned over to unbutton her shirt. Half of her expected him to just rip it open but he kept it in one piece as his fingers deftly opened it up, exposing the _wrath_ to his view more clearly.

“Admiring your handiwork?” she murmured.

John didn't answer, but he leaned down, his lips stroking over the curve of her breast as his fingers hooked beneath her collar and peeled the shirt down her shoulders. Grace let it go as his hands trailed down her sides, into her panties.

There hadn't been any point in putting on her sneakers after she spent the day in her room so her clothes just slid off without resistance. Cool air hit her slit as John kissed his way down her stomach, nipping at her hipbones. His tongue swept it over the marks and Grace stifled her moan with a fist. He'd already gotten enough noises from her just kissing her _mouth._

That determination lasted all of a few seconds as he parted her thighs and pressed a deep, slow kiss against her slit. She couldn't stop the gasp that followed it.

It had been fun to mock John's supposed silver tongue when she was in the company of friends, but when she was lying on a bed in the man's bunker with her thighs around his head, suddenly they seemed less like jokes and more like prophecies. His hands wrapped around her thighs, pulling her against his mouth, and Grace found herself staring at the fingers holding her legs open instead of his face. He had very nice hands and the tattoos inked onto his skin didn't do a damn thing to change that.

His tongue made a broad swipe up her clit and Grace arched, her fingers tangling into the the clothes again as he chased it up with a kiss.

“I've definitely kissed you more than once now, but no protests this time,” she heard him chuckle, and looked up to see him grinning.

“You think you're so fu- _uhh,_ fuck!”

His tongue teased around her nub, swiping against the folds before dipping briefly into her.

“Asshole,” she grunted. John sucked her clit into his mouth and Grace lost the ability to speak as pleasure rushed through her and began to coil between her thighs. She dug her nails into the sheets and arched her back, closing her eyes.

His fingers slipped beneath her, squeezing her ass, skimming up her back, and Grace felt him unhook her bra. Mouth still working her over, he stripped off her shirt and bra, and then she was naked in front of a fully dressed John Seed, her thighs quickly being slung over his shoulders. She reached up for the iron bars of the headboard and held on tight, just as those inked up fingers found her breasts and skimmed two long thumbs over her nipples.

Grace looked down again and her stomach flipped. Those blue eyes were locked onto her, fixated on the rise and fall of her chest as his mouth drew shattered gasps from her lips. It had been so long since anyone had done this to her and John was _very_ good at it. The hand inked in sins slid away from her breast and he tilted his head a little, letting his fingers push against her slit.

He paid all his attention to her clit as his fingers pushed into her and Grace moaned in relief at the feeling of being filled. Palm upwards, his hand began to thrust, and Grace found herself gasping each time his fingertips stroked at her walls.

She didn't remove her hands from those bars for a _second_ as the man between her thighs increased the attention he gave her, tongue grinding against her nub, suckling gently on it. Grace knew she wasn't going to last long - with her dry spell and John's fingers, she could already feeling that knot of need coil in between her thighs.

“You won't burst into flames under the weight of your sins if you touch me, you know,” she heard John murmur against her thigh. “Or are you so prideful that you're still holding out against me?”

Grace opened her mouth to talk and his lips returned to sucking at her as his fingers sped up. What escaped her was a broken, helpless gasp as pleasure rushed through her, growing tight with each touch. She tugged helplessly on the bars, spreading herself wide for him, and with a few more licks, she was crying out. Her back arched, forcing herself against his mouth as her orgasm pulled her under, and John didn't stop until she finally reached down to push his head away. Tremors rocked her when his lips brushed over her thigh.

Grace lay back against the bed and tried to recover from _that_ as the bed shifted. John sat up, wiping his mouth.

“You know, I've wanted to do that for _so_ long, Grace,” he murmured. “Since the moment you arrived at Eden's Gate, cuffs in hand, your false _justice_ in mind, I wondered what it would be like to have the Deputy lain down on my bed, bared to me, trembling in the wake of the pleasure I gave her.”

Grace panted as he knelt over her. His fingers skimmed up her sides. “I'm happy to report that it was everything I had hoped, and more.”

“Thanks,” Grace grunted. “Glad to have fulfilled your expectations.”

John chuckled, grinning. “Oh, on the matter of seeing you cum, I can _assure_ you, I am fully satisfied. But,” he slid a hand up to cup her breast, “I have _other_ curiosities I could use sating.”

Grace felt herself throb. She couldn't lie. She hadn't spent _that_ long thinking about it, but she had her own _curiosities_ too.

“Uhuh,” she shifted onto her elbows, “So?”

John sighed heavily. “So _contrary_ , darling. Do I need to spell it out?”

Grace bit her lip. “Is this still for good luck?”

John's brow quirked, a smirk crossing his face as he unbuckled his jeans. “It's good to know you still have a sense of humour after all this time, my dear.”

Grace watched him undress, leaning up on her elbows to follow his movements. His eyes were fixed on her as she took in each new piece he bared to her, and she had to bury the urge to reach out and brush her fingers across the _sloth_ carved into his chest when he slid off his shirt.

Dark hair fell in a trail down his belly, disappearing beneath the line of his boxers that had appeared when his belt had loosened. Grace let her eyes drift lower to the bulge in his jeans, tongue swiping across her lip without her realising it.

“You have a very pretty mouth, Grace,” John murmured, easing the jeans and boxers down his hips in one go. His cock popped free, and her lips parted, and briefly Grace wondered if he would be getting naked for this.

And then as the rest of his clothes hit the floor, she knew it had been stupid to even _question_ that.

As he knelt over her, Grace took a few moments to stare. He was pale, his body lean, but in that way rich people were - not a runner, not a fighter, this was a man who spent his exercise hours in the gym, and Grace briefly pictured him posing with a phone in front of a couple full length mirrors and tried to stifle a snort.

Her laughter died away as his erection pushed against her thigh, and she finally looked up at his face. His eyes were fixed on her, his lips parted a little, and even as she half expected a quip, she knew he was going to kiss her. And he did, sending bolts of warmth between Grace's thighs as his mouth brushed softly against hers. His hand gripping her ass, he squeezed and slid the tip of his cock against her folds. Grace gasped, her fingers grabbing sheets as he slid in without issue.

There was a _noise_ as he filled her, a soft _shlick_ that was punctuated by his long, low groan when his pelvis bumped against her mound, cock seated fully inside her. Leaning up on his elbow, he dragged a palm off her ass, up her side to cup her breast, playing with the nipple as Grace's nails tore into the duvet.

“Really, my dear,” there was a tension in his voice that betrayed the playfulness, “you don't _seem_ that averse to my touch. So why don't you bury that pride of yours and touch _me?_ ”

Grace shifted her hips, working herself against him. John growled, his mouth finding her nipple as his now free hand wrapped around her thigh and dragged it up around his hip.

“Wrath,” he groaned, and rocked into her. Grace's breath escaped her sharply as his tongue teased her breast. “Can I _fuck_ the anger out of you, do you think?”

“Shut up, John,” Grace arched as he rocked again, faster this time, “you're...killing the vibe!”

“So _rude_ , Grace,” he murmured, as she raised her arms and grabbed at the bars again. “One would think you’d show a little _thanks_ for, _mmm_ , all I just did to you.”

“You did _way-_ ”

His thrust ground him against her clit, his mouth finding her neck, and Grace groaned as he nibbled along her tendon, tongue sweeping out to soothe the marks. She didn’t know if he was taking it slowly to try and draw it out on purpose, or to tease her, but she rolled her hips against his to try and encourage him.

“So _wonderfully_ paradoxical, darling,” he nipped at her jaw again, “refusing to touch me but so _eager_ to have me…”

Grace stared down at John with a quirked brow, an expression difficult to maintain when he was slowly and rhythmically rocking his cock in and out of her, his eyes fixed on her face. Lips parted slightly, he _did_ look good. Not as good as his oldest brother, (god, imagine being stuck in a bunker with _that_ bastard!) but still _good_.

Probably best not to think about Jacob Seed when his little brother was lying on top of her like this, though. Not that she’d be _averse_ to being rutted for days without stopping…

Torn from her thoughts by a rough snap of said younger Seed’s hips, Grace gasped, wondering if John had gotten bored of trying to tease her, or whatever it was his aim had been with this.

“Grace.” The pain from his nipping teeth felt like little pricks of pleasurable heat that ran between her thighs. “Your mind is _wandering_ , dearest. Am I _boring_ you?”

“You could speed up,” she shot back. He thumbed her nipple in circles, raising his eyebrows.

“As you wish.”

His left hand slid between her thighs. Grace couldn’t stop the sharp breath that escaped her as he did as she asked, his head dropping to her breast and lips wrapping around her nipple. Pushing up one leg towards her chest, he twisted to the side, just a little, to give his thumb space to rub at her clit. The whimper that escaped her wasn’t something she’d ever hoped to give _John Seed_ , but she couldn’t lie.

When he wasn’t trying to piss her off, he was _good_ at this.

His teeth nipped at the erect peak and heat burned through Grace’s body with sudden vengeance, coiling in her core. John seemed to notice and did it again, his mouth at her breast winding her slowly towards an orgasm.

“You like...a little...rough handling, darling?” John panted, as Grace arched. “That's...that's it, my dear, just _enjoy_ yourself...mmm...you are taking me _so_ well.”

“John,” she groaned, wanting to tell him to shut up, but he buried his face in her breasts, his teeth and tongue nipping and licking at the swell of flesh. Little pricks of pleasurable heat followed each bite and Grace gasped softly, gripping the bars so tight her hands started to hurt. Ugh, he _was_ good at this.

“Oh _Grace_ , you have- _mmm!-_ no idea how many times I thought about _this._ ”

His mouth briefly attacked her neck and Grace could feel that pressure growing. An image of him fucking his hand as he thought about her did nothing to dispel the heat and she almost grabbed at him, resisting the urge. Her nails dug into her palm.

“I won't _plead_ with you to touch me, Grace.”

He didn't need to. Part of her wanted to know how he'd sound if she raked her nails down his back. John's hips bucked against her, harder and faster, and Grace groaned again. She was _close_.

His thumb moved faster. The coil grew tighter. She felt her toes curl, legs shaking, and then she was _cumming_ , one hand flying down to scratch cruel lines down his back as heat rushed through her body. John arched into her like he'd been shot with a sharp yelp of pleasure. Body rocking into hers, his erratic thrusts and still circling thumb prolonged her orgasm even as she felt his cock jerk and his cum fill her.

John finally slowed, easing his cock out of her. The sensation of wetness dribbling out of her slit made Grace gasp and she clenched her muscles, pushing the mess out.

John's mouth found her neck, then her jaw, and Grace's panting was quickly muffled by a long, slow kiss.

“You are _quite_ something, Grace,” John breathed. His lips kissed gently up her cheek before they pressed against her brow. “You and I will walk through Eden's Gate together, this I promise.”

“Your pillow talk is _awful_ , John,” Grace muttered.


End file.
